


An Accidental Outburst

by Affectiion



Series: The Wardrobe Verse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Affectiion/pseuds/Affectiion
Summary: A Companion Piece to 'Actually, it was.'How Ron, Blaise and Pansy finally got their acts together.Or, what makes Ron finally crack.





	An Accidental Outburst

**Author's Note:**

> All canon character, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this writing.
> 
> Hue thanks, as always, to the most amazing, wonderful and incredible JadePresley. Thank you for taking time out of your day to read (and fix!) my writing, I appreciate it more than you can imagine!

Until recently, Ron wouldn’t have given Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini a second thought. He hadn’t seen them since graduating from Hogwarts, until Hermione and ‘Theodore is my father, call me Theo’ Nott had begun to work together. Hermione, of course, encouraged, cajoled and finally threatened him until he agreed to meet with her new friends. The first few encounters were awkward, full of inappropriate comments and muttered name calling and swearing. It wasn’t until Theo had the - quite frankly - brilliant idea of getting them all drunk and setting Malfoy and Ron up with a game of chess, that everyone had settled comfortably in the new group and enjoyed their time spent together, rather than doing it begrudgingly for Hermione or Theo. 

 

From what Ron gathered, Pansy and Blaise had gotten together at the end of the war. By all accounts, according to Blaise, it was a very romantic story that no one would ever be told. 

 

Ron doubted this - Pansy clearly did not have a romantic bone in her body. Pansy was a snarky, rude, in your face flirt. She batted her eyelashes at any man with a pulse. Even Ron, to his discomfort.

 

So what if her green eyes were the most intense he’d ever seen? So what if her black hair was so shiny it was distracting? Pansy was with Blaise and was a snarky bitch anyway. 

 

At least, that’s what he told himself.

 

* * *

 

“But it’s Saturday mate! Surely the boss can take a Saturday off!” 

 

Ron threw himself onto the chair next to Blaise, dropping his head back to look at the ceiling. He sighed internally. He had other stuff to do today. Lunch was on at the Burrow and he hadn’t been for weeks. His mother was starting to worry, but he had been reluctant to face her incessant and loudly vocal worrying about how long he had been single.

In order to stop that line of thinking, Ron dropped his eyes, which unfortunately landed on Pansy, as she settled herself onto Blaise’s lap. 

 

Ron once again found himself distracted by the hem of her skirt as she crossed her legs, flashing - was that the top of a thigh high stocking? Ron averted his eyes. Why were all Pansy’s skirts so short? Well, knee length wasn’t that short, he supposed, but really! This wasn’t the first time he had been treated to a glimpse of a creamy pale thigh, courtesy of Pansy’s careless leg crossing, or the equally careless Blaise stroking her legs.

 

He jolted back to attention as Malfoy stood from his comfortable chair and moved to rest against his desk. 

 

“Malfoy Industries doesn’t sleep, Weasley. Being a tycoon takes work, no matter how effortless I make it look.” Malfoy smirked at Ron.  “ But since you have all decided to unexpectedly interrupt those efforts, am I to assume that there is some kind of dire emergency?"

 

Ron followed Malfoy’s gaze back to Pansy, unexpectedly meeting those green eyes. He felt heat rush into his cheeks and his heart did that strange thumpy thing it did whenever Pansy looked at him. 

 

“No, Draco, darling,” she drawled, not moving her gaze from Ron as she played with the hair at the nape of Blaise’s neck. “Not an emergency, per se.” She tilted her head and fluttered her eyelashes at Ron, running her tongue along her bottom lip. Ron flushed and pulled a sweet out of his pocket to distract himself. 

 

He tuned out as the others kept talking, running his eyes along the length of Blaise’s body adorned with Pansy’s. It wasn’t right that a couple should be so good looking. Ron admired the chiseled plane of Blaise’s jawline as it leant over Pansy’s shoulder to flash an easy smile at Hermione. Ron knew that under that well-cut suit was the body of a God. He knew this because Pansy had told him repeatedly and often. She had referred to it so often he was sure it was her fault that it become such a recurring fantasy of his. 

 

“Wrong!” Theo butted in. “It is an emergency!” 

 

Ron rolled his eyes to the ceiling and heaved a sigh. He felt a warm glow as Pansy snickered at his dramatic expression. He shot a cocky wink her way -  _ fake it til you make it, Ron - _ and wrinkled his nose at Hermione who was grinning at him as well. 

 

He zoned out again, watching Blaise’s long fingers hypnotically stroking gently up and down Pansy’s thigh. 

 

He was drifting into a lovely daydream, watching those masculine hands trace the creamy skin just above Pansy’s knees near the lace of her thigh high stockings, when he was shocked into awareness as one of Blaise’s slow moving hands jolted into a crude hand gesture. He flushed bright red as he met Blaise’s grinning face - busted! Blaise didn’t look concerned though. In fact, his wide smile grew as he dropped his head to press a kiss to Pansy’s neck, winking cheekily. 

 

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Ron could recall at least eight times that he had been caught looking inappropriately at Pansy, and not once had Blaise been overtly upset about it. Lately, in fact, Ron had noticed that their usual improper behaviour had increased from low level impropriety to near indecent exposure. The last time that he had been alone with the pair, waiting on the rest of their friends, Pansy had straddled Blaise’s lap - right in the middle of the pub! - and ground down onto him as they snogged heatedly. Ron would have felt like a third wheel had Blaise not maintained eye contact with him the whole time. Ron may as well have been a starring role in that kiss for as involved as Blaise had made him feel.

 

Ron gazed into the fireplace, listening vaguely as Theo and Malfoy snapped back and forth. 

 

His gaze returned to Blaise and Pansy as the other man inserted himself into the conversation. 

 

Blaise snickered. “Of course Potter doesn’t think it’s an emergency, but that’s because --” 

 

Pansy took her eyes off Ron for a brief second to smack Blaise. “You promised, darling.” Pansy is  _ fierce _ , Ron thought. There was a quiet strength to her; when she wasn’t busy being brash and in your face, she was able to bend people to her will with a simple glance.

 

Blaise shrugged elegantly. “Maybe, but--” Pansy cut him off with a firm shake of her head and he fell silent. Ron turned his head away and grinned to himself. For such a dominating man, Blaise was quick to listen to Pansy when she used  _ that _ tone of voice. As was everyone else, to be fair. Blaise himself was the kind of man that Ron’s mum used to read about in those old romance books- strong, smart, funny and charming. It wasn’t fair, really. And just typically Ron to fancy  _ both _ members of the most attractive couple he’d ever met. Shite, he’d never felt quite so… desperate? Lonely? Was that what he was feeling? Or was he just randy as hell? 

 

He made up his mind to hit the clubs at the next available opportunity. Maybe that night. He could always go to the Burrow next week. 

 

He wasn’t sure what possessed him - perhaps his discomfort at the private smile Pansy had sent him, or the direction his thoughts had headed, but he looked challengingly at her in return and threw in a snarky comment about Slytherin’s being unable to keep a secret. 

 

It was on. 

 

_ This _ was his comfort zone. Snarky comments, snappy retorts and the sparkle in Pansy’s eyes as she shot back equally as fast. 

 

They continued to bicker, with Blaise looking, rather fondly, on. The rest of the group had rolled their eyes and fallen silent until Pansy sighed loudly and pointedly turned her head away from Ron. 

 

His comfort dissipated. The smouldering smirk on Blaise’s face, the pink flush to Pansy’s pale cheeks, his own rapid heartbeat. Moments like this were when he realised that there was something decidedly wrong with him. He had never lusted over someone who was already in a relationship - let alone two someones in a relationship together. Never been vaguely interested in being in a relationship with someone who challenged him at every turn, who had so much attitude, who were so openly affectionate in public. What was  _ wrong _ with him? And even worse,he couldn’t stay away! They invited him out to lunch? He went. To the clubs? He was there. Blaise was busy? Ron accompanied Pansy shopping.  _ Like a twat! _

 

Malfoy sighed loudly, conveniently breaking into Ron’s inner turmoil. 

 

“Alright, so I’ve been designated the… what? Shopping assistant?” He absently waved his wand and his files organised themselves into his grandfather’s antique cabinet. Ron admired the ease with which Malfoy did everything. Every move looked like it had been well rehearsed. While he loved his family dearly, and appreciated their relaxed view of life, and how unlike every other Pureblood family they were, sometimes he wished he had just a little of the traditional tutoring that every other Pureblood male had had. Just a little of the style and grace the others took for granted would have been nice, he thought wistfully, rooting around in his pockets for another snack. 

 

“Nah mate.” He had found the last sweet in his pocket and was munching on it. He shot a cheeky grin at Malfoy. “Not the assistant,  _ much _ more important than that. You get to be in  _ charge _ .” He knew that would appeal to Malfoy. Ferret had a power complex. Which suited Harry, who needed someone else to be the boss for a while. Which was, of course, what this whole ridiculous visit was about. 

 

Pansy once again caught his eye, smiling knowingly as she rose gracefully off Blaise’s lap, smoothing her hands over non-existent wrinkles. How did she manage to make something that should be indecent look so elegant? Blaise rose behind her and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. Ron’s eyes tracked the quick flick of his wrists, the possessive movement to place his hands firmly on Pansy’s hips, the casual stroking of Pansy’s own hands coming to rest on them.  

 

“As a gay man isn’t it your duty to save the world from terrible fashion choices? And perhaps the rest of us could return to our, now very late, lunch plans? They hardly need a pack of us following them around,” Blaise drawled, shooting Ron a pointed look. 

 

“Alright,” Malfoy sighed. “If, and only if, you give me five minutes to discuss your proposition with Potter  _ without _ the peanut gallery, I’ll consider taking him shopping.” He shot a sharp look at Pansy and Theo.

 

Ron jumped up eagerly. “Sounds like it’s a go. I’m going for lunch. Who’s coming?” He was starving. To  be fair, he was always starving, but he was also desperate to get out of the stuffy room. He needed to get some air, some distraction from the tilt of Blaise’s smile and the curves of Pansy’s body, so clearly defined in her horribly inappropriate clothes that looked  _ so good  _ on her. 

 

Pansy gave a long suffering sigh. “It wasn’t a yes. The key word was consideration and that is not a guarantee. However, I am hungry and I am going to ignore the ambiguity for the sake of your stomach. Come, Blaise.” She swept towards the fireplace, Blaise following behind her. 

 

“To the Lucky Beaker,” she gave a pointed look at Ron. “Will you make it there?”

 

He snorted and nodded. “Yes, Princess.” He sketched a mocking bow. “Lead the way.”

 

“Go ahead,” Theo directed at Blaise, “I just need to have a word to Granger and Malfoy. I’ll owl you tomorrow.” He nodded at Blaise, who returned the gesture and continued after Pansy in the floo.

 

“I’ll drop by tonight, Ron,” Hermione grinned at the redhead, and waved as he straightened his leather jacket and disappeared into the flames.

 

* * *

  
The meal passed as uneventfully as it usually did. Due to the lateness of the hour, lunch had turned into an early dinner. The three enjoyed a leisurely meal together, sharing the mixed entrees and desserts. The wine had gone down well, Blaise having quickly learned what was to Ron’s taste - a dry white, for future reference -  and he wasn’t sure, but Ron had a feeling that they were all a bit drunk. He and Pansy had debated the merits of incorporating the Muggle concept of cheerleaders into British Quidditch, with Ron at one stage telling Pansy she was flat out wrong. He expected her to throw a fit- no one ever told Pansy she was wrong -  but she had only laughed delightedly and said, “Hear that, Blaise? I’m wrong about something!”

 

“There’s a first time for everything, love,” he’d laughed and pressed a warm kiss to her cheek. He shot a wide grin at Ron whose heart raced. 

 

“Come back to our place for ice cream and more wine.” Pansy leant against Ron as they left the pub. It was now approaching dark, and had just started to drizzle. He threw a casual arm around her shoulders to pull her out of the way of a running teenager. 

 

“Sure, Princess,” he agreed easily. He knew in the back of his mind that this was a bad idea, being alone with Blaise and Pansy just led to him leaving, frustrated and horny, back to his silent flat. 

 

They traipsed to the designated Apparition Point with Blaise following behind them, hands in pockets. 

 

Blaise took each of their hands at the point, having knocked back a Sober-Up Potion along the short walk. Ron basked in the warmth of Blaise’s hand, and pressed his body a little closer, leaning against the taller man, breathing in his scent and sighing happily. As they landed with a dizzying thump, Ron pulled himself upright, away from the heat of Blaise’s body, astonished at himself. How drunk was he? 

 

“I should go-”  he stumbled backwards, almost falling down the steps of Zabini Manor. Suddenly, he found himself held tightly against Blaise’s chest. 

 

“I don’t think you should go anywhere,” Blaise chuckled. “I think you’re a bit buzzed, love.”

 

“No, I can’t, I have to go,” Ron pushed his palms against Blaise’s chest. This time, Blaise let him step back. Pansy looked at Ron, concerned. 

 

She grabbed his hand and tugged him inside. “At least come in and have a quick sobering potion,” she commanded. She kicked off her towering heels at the door and dragged Ron to the sitting room. She shoved him onto the couch and artfully collapsed beside him, her skirt dragging dangerously up her thighs. Blaise strolled in and sat on the accompanying arm chair, ankle crossed on knee. He had removed his jacket and tie, and Ron’s attention was drawn to where the top buttons of his shirt had been unbuttoned. 

 

“What’s wrong Ron? You seem really off,” Pansy drawled, placing her hand on his knee and leaning forward. Ron’s attention was now drawn to Pansy’s gaping shirt,  the lace of her red bra peeking through. 

 

He couldn’t take it anymore. How did she not know?

 

“You and your inappropriate clothes!” he burst out, rising to his feet, backing away from her. 

 

“What do you mean inappropriate?” Pansy shrieked immediately, jumping to her feet as well. She moved right into Ron’s personal space, not helping his temper at all. “There’s nothing wrong with my fucking clothes, Weasley!” She prodded his chest with a manicured nail.

 

“I mean I can’t stop fucking  _ staring _ at you all the fucking time! If you wore proper Pureblood clothes, like you fucking  _ should, _ I’d be able to keep my eyes off you!” he bellowed, waving his hands in the vicinity of her skirt. 

 

“Proper Pure-” she gasped in outrage, her voice reaching piercing levels.

 

Ron carried on like she hadn’t said a word, “-and you!” he turned on Blaise. “Why aren't you stopping me?” he stormed over to Blaise, who had leant forward, both elbows on knees. He gazed mildly up at Ron, whose ears burned. “Why are you letting me  _ look _ at her the way I do? You should-”

 

Blaise rose to his feet slowly. “You need to calm down, mate.” 

 

“Fuck you!” Ron bit out. He took three steps backward, knowing that he was behaving in a ridiculous manner, but unable to calm down. “I told you, I have to go.” Catching sight of Pansy, wide eyed, he brought his tone down a little. “I’m sorry Pansy, I didn’t mean it.” he looked at his feet. “It’s not you, at all. I-” he took a deep breath. “I have to go.” 

 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Pansy laughed. 

 

“I know. I’m sorry. Like I said, I have to go.” Ron attempted to leave the room, but Pansy blocked his path. 

 

“No, just wait,” she said forcefully.

 

Blaise gently shoved Ron to sit back onto the couch. “Wait there, love, I’m going to get the potion.” 

 

Ron collapsed on the couch. Pansy sat next to him, almost on his lap. “Please don’t go,” she whispered. “Just wait.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I think…”

 

“I’m so sorry Pansy,” Ron muttered. “I can’t help it. After tonight I’ll stay away.” He held her hands still. “Please don’t, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it.”

 

“I know,” Pansy said, more confidently now. “I know, Ron. Drink the potion.”

 

Blaise was holding it patiently in front of them, having returned without Ron noticing. Pansy tucked her legs underneath herself and rose to kneel. “Drink it,” she commanded. “We need to talk.”

 

Blaise remained in front of them. Ron raised his eyes to look at him. “I’m so sorry Blaise.” he said, “I’ll - “

 

“Drink it,” the dark man said, pushing the bottle closer to Ron’s face. “We’ll talk once you’ve had it.”

 

Ron drank the potion, shuddering at the dirty aftertaste. The colour drained from his face as he sobered up, and Pansy and Blaise paused while the potion took effect. 

 

“Ron-” Blaise began.

 

“Nope, not any less embarrassed or sorry.” Ron held up his hand to stop him. “Really, please let me go now.”

 

Blaise looked conflicted for a second. His normally stoic face flew through emotions before his eyes flicked to Pansy for the briefest second. At her nod, he said, “Just, let me do one thing first, and then, if you still want to go, then you can go.”

 

Ron closed his eyes and nodded, obviously bracing himself for a punch. 

 

He was astounded when, instead, he felt a body - a heavy body, carefully, almost delicately settle on his lap - straddling his legs. His eyes flew open, and his eyes met Blaise’s serious ones. He watched, heart pounding, as Blaise slowly ducked his head and pressed his lips to Ron’s. Ron froze, head swimming. What was happening? Surely he had passed out. Blaise pulled back and began to draw his body off Ron’s. “I’m sorry, Ron, I must have misread-” 

 

Ron grabbed Blaise’s wrist, halting the man’s progress. “No, wait, Blaise, I-”

 

He took a deep breath, but before he could speak, Pansy spoke softly from beside them. “Ron, are you really so thick?”

 

Still gripping Blaise’s arm, the other man half on his lap, he huffed a quiet laugh. “Let’s pretend for a moment I am, yes. I don’t understa- what- I mean,” he sighed. “You know what I’m trying to say.”

 

Pansy snorted indelicately. She and Blaise had one of those conversations they were famous for - all eyebrows and twisting of lips. As he waited, used to this, Ron’s eyes travelled Blaise’s body, hand flexing where he held his wrist. 

 

“Is it just me you want?” Pansy ended up asking bluntly. “Or is it Blaise too?” She moved behind Blaise and began to help him out of his tailored waistcoat. She gently shoved him back to straddle Ron as she pulled it from his shoulders. Blaise tilted his head back to meet her eyes. “I understand what you’re doing, little girl, but this won’t be an ongoing attitude.” 

 

Pansy shot him a saucy wink in return and drawled, ‘yes sir,” and threw the waistcoat to the floor behind her. 

 

Blaise settled his hands on Ron’s shoulders and made himself more comfortable. 

 

Ron’s hands moved without his consent - he gripped Blaise’s hips tightly as he watched Pansy shake her hair out of it’s holder. “What are you-”

 

Blaise shook his head. “Ron, it’s not that hard. We both want you, we thought you wanted both of us too.” He leant forward and ran his mouth along Ron’s jaw. 

 

Ron’s brain short circuited and suddenly everything made sense. “Are you telling me that for all this time you’ve been  _ performing _ for me?

 

Pansy flushed delicately and refrained from answering. Blaise dropped his head further and pressed rough kisses to his neck. “You don't mind, do you?” Blaise mumbled. 

 

Ron tilted his head to the side to give Blaise more room to work. “Guess not,” he murmured. 

 

Pansy settled herself back on the couch, eyes dark and breath rapid. Ron reached out a hand, which she gripped in return, bringing it to her mouth to kiss his knuckles. She ducked her head to suck gently on a finger before grabbing Blaise’s hand to pull him off Ron’s lap. “Bed, now,” she demanded, pulling the two men towards the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

As Ron stumbled into his flat the next morning, he nearly fell over when he saw who was sitting in the couch facing the floo. 

 

Hermione giggled, tucked a bookmark in, and carefully closed the book she had been reading.

“I told you I’d drop by,” she said. “Where have you been?”

 

He dropped heavily onto the seat next to her, carelessly flinging an arm over the back. “You said you’d drop by  _ last night _ ,” he pointed out. “Have you been here all night?”

 

Hermione flushed and looked down. “Ah, no, I haven’t. I was unavoidably detained.” Her eyes met his reluctantly. “You know, work.”

 

Ron snorted in response. “The love bite on your neck tells me otherwise, you dirty liar.” He tilted his head to the side, inspecting her neck. “Good job that. Well marked. Theo feeling territorial for some reason?”

 

Hermione growled and smacked him on the shoulder. “shut up! I’m not talking about it. Meanwhile, where have you been?” She had obviously not realised the light marks were there, because she cast a hasty concealing spell at her neck.

 

He grinned widely. “At Blaise and Pansy’s.”

 

Hermione cheered and smacked him again. “Finally!” 

 

Half an hour later, after an intense session of gossip, Hermione looked at her watch and gasped. “Sorry, I’ve got to go!” She stood hastily and grabbed her bag. “I promised Theo I’d meet him for lunch.”

 

Ron stood up and stretched. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but good. I need a shower.”

 

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “You do. I wasn’t going to say anything because I wanted to know what happened last night, but you really, really do.” 

  
And with a  _ crack! _ she was gone.


End file.
